Weeds & Roses
by NeoNails
Summary: Layla/Warren. 'There are days she feels like weeds. There are days she feels like daisies. There are days she feels like roses.' It's finding the in between that counts the most.


I really can't explain this. It's just something I thought about way back when and I finally got around to finishing up the last few lines.

I actually didn't want to post this until I finished with my latest chapter of _How to Hit Rock Bottom_ (Chapter 5 officially, but Chapter 6 if you go by - I don't count the Prologue as the first chapter XD), and then, when I did finish the chapter, I forgot I had finished this until I was going through Microsoft Word and looking at all the stories I have up there. I'm considering making a file for everything that I've finished and posted here. Maybe then 'My Documents' will look a hell of a lot cleaner. O.o

(Oh, and as a note, I _know_ that a dandelion is a weed, but I always found them to be prettier weeds. Whatever. Just go with me on it.)

$4$

_I walked a thousand miles while everyone was asleep  
__Nobody's really seen my million subtleties_

- _Autobiography_, Ashlee Simpson

* * *

There are days she feels like weeds.

That night at Will's house, when Gwen told her she wasn't wanted. That was a pretty low point on her list. Gwen knew exactly what to say to make it hurt, and it was right then that it occurred to her that Miss Perfect might just be the Spawn of Satan. But no, she wasn't being _purposefully_ evil, she was just protecting what was hers. And if Gwen drilled anything into her that night, it was that Stronghold was hers.

Later on, Layla finally figured out she was really and truly evil, but that was something different. At the time, she was just being territorial, and, at the time, there was nothing wrong with that.

Then there was the day her parents announced they were getting a divorce. Oddly, they were both disturbingly happy about their announcement. Her mother kept grinning that slightly crazed, totally at peace grin and her father kept playing with his engagement ring, which was now on the table glinting dully under the fluorescent lights. It was disturbingly unreal and heartbreakingly final.

There are days she feels like dandelions.

She broke it off with Will. Not the other way around. Oh, the rumor mill had its fun, twisting up all sorts of obnoxious lies about Sky High's biggest hero. He was just another guy, cheating on just another girl. He was a grade-A ass, treating his perfectly sweet and perfectly perfect girlfriend like grade-A trash. He was a dog, a loser, a manwhore. Everything and anything that he really, honestly, truly wasn't. She was the irrational one, the one who couldn't handle something as simple as a relationship. She could handle being friends with the poor boy, but a date? It was just _too_. Too awkward, too uncomfortable, too just plain weird.

Maybe she was being immature, maybe she was being irrational (again), but dating Will… it just didn't feel right. She tried explaining as much to him, but he just didn't get it. He was hurt and didn't want to listen to her pathetic blathering. She didn't blame him. She was mean and cruel, and didn't deserve her awesome best friend. Well, maybe she deserved her awesome best friend. She just didn't deserve her awesome best friend-_slash_-boyfriend.

There are days she feels like daisies.

She doesn't always feel like a heel. There are good days, and there are bad days. She's just like anyone else. The weekends she spends at the mall with Magenta, watching her best girl friend gag at the brightly colored, overly priced fashion strategically placed on the stick-thin mannequins, and giggling when Ethan spots that cute, nerdy Chinese girl in his Super History class and melts into a puddle. Even better, when she drags Warren to the movies to watch whatever Adam Sandler comedy is out and tries not to smile when he growls and mutters obscenities and threats after every punch line.

These are the days she feels warm on the inside, happy she has such wonderful friends, all in their individual, bumbling ways. Her parents aren't always crazy and unhinged and hating the ground the other person walked on. These are the days she feels normal, just like any other teenage girl. Those were the nice days.

There are days she feels like roses.

Those days happen about as frequently as the terrible ones, but they're usually easier to forget in comparison. Any more, she's just happy for what she can get. But sometimes she's surprised, and she realizes just how lucky she can be.

Honestly, it all happened by accident. It was the Strongholds' annual Forth of July bash, and the kids spent their time on the back porch, while their parents all reminisced on the glory days and past battles in the house. Will was still being tense and silly, so she avoided everyone for most of the night, content with nursing her iced tea on a stump at the edge of the woods and staring up at the stars. That is, until Warren walked up. He was drinking from a bottle of beer, but she knew from past experience that he only ever drank about half of it in an entire night.

They didn't say much to one another, and before she could even think of any conversation starters, the fireworks started and she found herself struck. The silence was comforting, and before she knew it, they went from staring up at the fireworks, to staring at one another, to…

Warren tasted like stale, warm beer- bitter and flat- but only for a second, and then that taste dissipated and she was left with cinnamon and spice and possibly, maybe, even charred wood, something that was new and different and invigorating and one hundred percent Warren Peace.

Once she had a taste, she couldn't get enough of it. She wrapped her arms around his neck, finally able to relax and live in the moment. This was what she knew she was missing when she was with Will. Every kiss, she knew something was off or maybe wrong, and she could never place why.

Now she knew.

It was just so… right. He was just tall enough for her, and his hands were so big they followed the contours of her figure perfectly. Everything about the kiss was just shy of perfect.

After the kiss, everything wasn't quite as perfect- Warren didn't want to deal with the idea of dating his 'hippie' friend, and that wasn't anything compared to Will's reaction after Warren got over his differences.

No, things weren't perfect, but once the dust settled and things got back to normal- as close as they ever would- Layla had to admit, it wasn't all bad. She still felt like weeds sometimes, and she still cringed when she thought about Gwen or how she hurt Will or her parents' divorce.

But when she was wrapped in Warren's arms late at night, thinking about her friends and her family, she realized that the occasional weed wasn't all that bad when you were surrounded with daisies and roses every day.

$4$

I thought this was a cute ending. You know, considering I started this… holy shit, approximately 7 months ago, according to my unfailing computer. Jeebus.

But I liked the way it ended, and it's good enough that I feel comfortable posting it, which is really all that's important to me anymore. XD


End file.
